What I Want
by divine one
Summary: Ganya Giles.Anya, Spuffy Spike.Buffy. Prob.1 Being with someone just so that you CAN be with someone. Prob.2 Being with someone who won't admit they want to be with you.
1. Confrontation

TITLE What I Want  
CHAP 1 (of 6?) Confrontation  
FANDOM Buffy The Vampire Slayer  
PAIRING Ganya Spuffy… More ganya than anything  
AUTHOR Devylish  
WORDS 2350  
WARNINGS AU timeline, Tara's around, Dawn is 17, Anya and Xander are together but not engaged, Spike and Buffy are 'foolin' around' but it's still a secret – and Buffy is still torn about how she feels for Spike. Oh and yes… yes, Giles and Anya SHOULD be together!  
RATING PG13/K+ this chap due to a lil language.  
AN What a fricking difference a beta makes!! And TWO, TWO is better than one! **mobilealh **and **Xela Ebonie **thanks ever so much for helping me beat back the elliptical monster that seems to live in me!! You were BOTH dolls and oh soooo much help! All remaining mistakes are mine mine mine!!  
AN2 part of my entry for the Summer of Giles LJ

**WIWIWIWIWIWIWIWIWIW**

Giles poured another glass of the revered Glenfiddich scotch before tucking the bottle back behind the tomes on the top of his bookshelf; the only hiding place in his home he'd managed to locate that Spike had never been able to find.

The woody, aromatic scotch burned pleasantly as it coated his throat, but the flavor was lost on him. Which was a shame really, it was a fine brand; a drink that was made to be savored. But tonight, it was wasted on him because he was just so tired.

Rubbing his hand against the back of his neck, he sighed, pulled off his glasses, and rubbed his stinging eyes. Giles was weary because he was worried; worried about the decisions the children – although, they weren't really children anymore – were making. Willow, Xander, Buffy, Dawn… and Anya – his thoughts cheered buoyantly, briefly, at the thought of Anya's smile, before the morass of concerns he had been so undeniably sinking in to, reclaimed him.

Buffy. She was like his own child, his most fragile daughter. It broke his heart that she was constantly so alone and yet, surrounded so many people. He knew it was her duty to… to save the world. But he also knew that she had done more amazing things in her short life than would ever be chronicled by the Council – including raising Dawn to be a beautiful young woman. She deserved to find someone… someone who appreciated her for what she was, and who wanted her with all of her strengths and her foibles.

Spike's face flashed through Giles' mind and he grimaced. He too had become a part of the 'family' that Buffy had created; although his role in the 'family'…? The only signs of life he saw these days on Buffy's face were when she was around her vampire. Giles settled himself in the chair by the lamp. Brother, friend, thorn, teacher, lover – Spike was all of these things to the group. Yes, 'lover'. Giles knew about Buffy' recent… dalliances with the black sheep of the group. He was almost certain they were having physical relations.

He grimaced again. 'Her vampire.' Giles honestly didn't know how he was going to handle this situation. _Play dumb when the truth invariably, horribly, and most probably, embarrassingly, came out? Approach Buffy and try and talk some sense into her?_

He chuckled quietly; Buffy was not known to take well to 'orders' or 'demands'; even when they came from her Watcher… especially when they came from her Watcher.

He slouched slightly in the chair, trying to make himself more comfortable – physically and mentally.

He supposed he could address the issue with Spike. Talk to him man-to-man, as it were.

This time he laughed out loud. _Yes, that will work, I'll just appeal to the demon's sense of propriety. His sense of right and wrong. His heart_. He laughed again.

Throwing back the rest of his tumbler of scotch he stood up and moved back to the bookshelf. 'Really shouldn't have bothered putting the bottle away.'

As he poured the amber liquid into the cut-crystal glass, the door of his apartment burst open.

"Rupert, mate!"

"Speak of the devil, and he shall appear." Giles murmured and closed the bottle back up. "Spike, what are you doing barging into my home?" He turned, glass in hand.

Spike ignored the question, and eyed the drink speculatively. "I don't suppose you have any more of that lying about?"

"You are an aggravating, irritating creature, Spike." Giles nonetheless turned his back to the vampire and pulled another glass from the cabinet beneath his bookshelf. Pouring a generous glass for the blond, Giles handed the tumbler to Spike.

Spike raised his drink to Giles in cheer: "Old wood to burn/Old books to read/Old wine to drink/Old friends to trust."

Giles raised his eyebrow then raised his glass, "Sláinte!"

"An Irish toast?"

Giles shrugged and ambled over to his chair. "Spike," he repeated wearily, "to what do I owe the pleasure of having you in my home?"

Settling back, he watched as Spike moved to the couch and carelessly threw himself down. "Honestly? I don't know. I was just out and about, waiting for the Sl –" he caught himself, lifting his eyes quickly to Giles' before continuing. "– waiting for this Slazian demon friend of mine… we're planning on meeting up tonight, and, uh," a smile slid across Spikes lips, "getting into some trouble."

Giles tipped his head to the side and pursed his lips. He hadn't missed Spike's slip-of-the-tongue; it as was yet another sign that Buffy and he were… involved. 'I guess it's to be a face-to-face confrontation then.'

"Spike," Giles cleared his throat. "I know about you and Buffy."

Spike's head shot up from his glass. "You… you know what…?" He played for time, hoping Giles wasn't referring to what he thought he was.

"I know that you and Buffy have grown… closer in the past few months."

"Closer? Yeah, well, she doesn't want to stake me quite as often as she use to, it, umm comes from the whole spending more time together… erh, patrolling, watching after Dawn, and whatnot."

"It's not the patrolling that I'm worried about Spike. I AM, however, worried about the aforementioned 'whatnot'."

Spike remained silent.

"You do know that it's wrong, don't you, Spike? That you and Buffy make no sense together?"

"Yeah, well, mate, if life… and death… have taught me anything, it's that love doesn't make sense."

"Spike –"

"Take a look at you. You and the demon bird. Might not make a lick of sense when people look at it from the outside. But on the inside, yeah, on the inside, everything feels damn right, doesn't it?''

Could he know? How? Did I do something? Inadvertently say something when Spike was around that gave it away? He straightened his back and tightened his grip on his glass. "I have no idea what you're talking about Spike. Stop trying to change the topic."

"'m not. I'm tryin' to prove a point. You have a thing for Anya."

"I – I don't know what you're talking about! Anya Jenkins?! She… she and Xander… whatever would give you that idea?"

"'Me thinks the Watcher doth protest too much.'" Spike grinned and settled back on the couch, crossing his black jean clad legs at the ankles. "Sorry, Rupes, it's there in your eyes every time you look at her; in your voice every time you talk to her."

'If Spike can tell how I feel about Anya, have the others noticed? Good Lord! Has Anya noticed and --.'

"Don't worry, Watcher, I don't think anyone else has realized you have a thing for the ex-demon. Excellent scotch by the way."

The sigh that escaped Giles was audible… even to someone who wasn't a vampire. He flushed lightly.

"Yes, well, we're not talking about myself… or Anya."

"Actually, we sort of are. You and the blonde are in the same… well similar… boat that the Slayer and I are in. Not everyone is going to get it… but, it works, for you… and I think for Anya."

"She… I…," clearing his throat then taking a deep breath, Giles gathered himself. "If I have feelings for Anya," Spike smirked as Giles spoke, and Giles put more conviction behind his voice. "If I have **any** feelings for Anya, she is unaware of them, and will remain so."

"Why?" Spike questioned with a lift of his brow.

"Why?" Giles echoed, scrambling for reasons.

Spike repeated, "Why?"

"Good Lord, we sound like parrots! Anya … I… Xander," Xander is a safe argument. "Xander and Anya are a couple. There is no hope for a ahem a relationship to blossom between Anya and me."

"Xander's a bloody prat who doesn't know what he has, or what it's worth, even when it's being dangled right in front of his face."

"He's a good boy."

"Right. 'A boy'. Anya is 1000 years old, she needs a man. A man who appreciates her. A man who wants to shout from the rooftops that he loves her. She doesn't need a… a 'boy' who only notices her when he wants to 'take her out to play'."

Giles was silent. He had seen Xander's tendency to ignore Anya. He'd seen Xander's tendency to disregard Anya's knowledge, which really, should one ever ignore the knowledge of someone who had lived for 1000 years? And Giles had most definitely been privy to Xander's tendency to be embarrassed by Anya's frank, forthright speech. Giles would be the first to admit that Anya said some rather surprising and unfiltered things, but for him – stodgy, British, older Giles – Anya's honesty was a part of her charm.

He drew himself out of his reflections with a huff. Listening to Spike's rhapsodies regarding the state of his love life was getting him nowhere. Pulling himself out of his chair he held his hand out for Spike's glass, "Another?"

"Since you're offering."

"Yes, well, don't get use to it, I'm not going to be your free watering hole."

"Understood."

Giles poured them each another glass. He'd have to stop drinking soon; there'd be nothing worse than being plastered around Spike. Unless, it was being plastered around Buffy and the rest of the group in their entirety. He shuddered at the thought. He wasn't a bad drunk, but he was certainly a lot less in control of his actions. Ripper and Rupert and Giles should NEVER be mixed… and that's what inebriation did, it took all his parts and made a one-of-a-kind cocktail out of them.

"She's a pretty woman, Rupert."

"She's damnably beautiful." He thrust the new tumbler full of scotch in front of his guest. His smirking guest. "And don't be so smug about being right. It was bound to happen to you once in century."

Spike's laughter was hearty and encouraged Giles to chuckle himself.

"How did you know?"

"Like I said, mate, it's in the eyes. It's in the eyes. And I think similar plights make a man notice and commiserate. I know love when I see it."

"Which brings us back around to you and Buffy." Giles tried to reassert some control on the discussion.

"We never really left me and the Slayer. What I've been trying to say, trying to point out to you, is that I feel for Buffy, the way you feel for Anya. Our plights are different only in that the Slayer and I were born to be enemies – that's where we don't fit. Where we do fit, is strength, passion, darkness."

"Buffy is not 'darkness', Spike. You may be, but she is not."

"And that's the part of her you'll never understand, Rupes. I agree, she's not **all** darkness – neither am I by the way – but she is some darkness…." He held his glass-filled hand up and shook his head to stop Giles' immediate argument. "She's not all darkness, but our girl, yeah," Spike settled back on the couch, "she's got these layers to her. White light, shades of steely and soft grays, and fathomless blackness." Brilliant blue eyes stared into gray-blue ones. "There's more to her than meets the eye. Than even she knows."

"I won't let you bring her down, Spike. We all have layers – depths, but that doesn't mean we should delve into them."

"Delve?!" Spike jumped up and began to pace. "I'm not talking about delving… or rolling around in them or… any shit like that. What I am talking about is accepting, recognizing, that she bloody HAS a dark side." He stopped pacing, "What? Does the damn council teach you Watchers and Slayers that you're all just, just… one dimensional? Because, mate, life isn't bloody like that!"

Stepping off of his soapbox, Spike dropped back down onto the couch and swallowed half of his scotch. His tone a little more relaxed, he pointed his hand at Giles. "Your girl, for instance, she's not just the blonde simpleton that the whelp seems to think she is. She's got passions, and energies in her – a mind; she's got a great mind."

Giles' voice was low, "I know."

"Then why aren't you doing something about it?!"

"Because we're not right for one another Spike. She's young… and, and I'm not."

"She's got 1000 years on you mate."

"She's with Xander; happily with Xander."

"You call THAT happy? Have you ever seen her face when he shuts her down?"

"We have nothing in common."

"Other than a close group of friends, your common 'fight for the good', the Magic Box, and let's not forget your appreciation of history. Half of what you study, she knows. First hand."

Silence.

"However did we get on to the topic of Anya and me?"

Spike smiled, "You were trying to tell me that opposites don't work. Or that differences between a man and woman mean that their relationship is doomed to failure… or some such rot."

Giles relaxed his frame against the cushions of the chair and suckled a little more of the scotch. He studied Spike with one eye and wondered, could the vampire be right? Might he stand a chance with Anya?

"I'll give you one point where our situations – yours and mine – differ. I've taken the first step. I'm 'balls out, heart in my hand' with the Slayer. She could… does… take either – and sometimes both – and trounce on them a bit. But, she sees 'em. She knows. And, I have these moments, these moments of pure unadulterated bliss with her. Moments when she's not hiding. And she's not protecting herself from the possibilities." Spike took a last gulp from his glass, "Makes the 'bleedin' heart', the 'crushed nuts'," he grinned as Giles grimaced, "the whole bloody thing worthwhile."

Standing up, Spike put his glass down on the table, moved to pat Giles on the shoulder, then headed to the door. "Make your move mate. At least then you'll know. And you'll be living; truly living." Opening the door Spike looked back at the Watcher, "I'm off to get my Slayer. Thanks for the drink."


	2. Chchchanges

TITLE What I Want  
CHAP 2 (of 6?) Ch-ch-ch-changes  
FANDOM Buffy The Vampire Slayer  
PAIRING Ganya Spuffy… More ganya than anything  
AUTHOR Devylish  
WORDS 2857  
WARNINGS AU timeline, Tara's around, Dawn is 17, Anya and Xander are together but not engaged, Spike and Buffy are 'foolin' around' but it's still a secret – and Buffy is still torn about how she feels for Spike. Oh and yes… yes, Giles and Anya SHOULD be together!  
RATING PG13/K+ this chap due to a lil language.  
AN What a fricking difference a beta makes!! And TWO, TWO is better than one! **mobilealh **and **Xela Ebonie **thanks ever so much for helping me beat back the elliptical monster that seems to live in me!! You were BOTH dolls and oh soooo much help! All remaining mistakes are mine mine mine!!  
AN2 part of my entry for the Summer of Giles LJ  
AN3 Chap 3 is with a betttttaaaaaaaaa

**WIW WIW WIW WIW WIW**

"But Xander --."

"Seriously Ahn, I don't have time right now. We'll talk when I get home." He picked up his tool belt.

"Xander, you won't be home until after 6!"

"And?"

"We're suppose to go to Giles' tonight; he scheduled this gang meeting dinner thing…."

"Right, so we'll talk after."

But Xander --."

"Not now Ahn!" He leaned in and kissed her on the cheek, "later."

Anya plopped down on the chair as the door closed behind Xander.

Humans. Xander-like-humans in particular – were confusing. And frustrating. Very, very frustrating. He didn't do the things that humans in love were suppose to do. He didn't talk to her. And he didn't listen to her.

These days, the few times they were actually alone together – say over dinner – she would try and talk to him about his day, or share her day with him; she'd tell him about the money she'd earned, the items she had sold, and – nothing. He listened with half an ear and responded hardly at all.

If she did somehow get Xander to listen to her thoughts, he, nine times out of ten, dismissed them as foolish… or impossible.

Sighing, Anya looked around the apartment. She'd cleaned it earlier... the dishes were done…. She wasn't even needed at the shop today as they were only open for a half day so that Giles could prepare his little celebratory dinner tonight. She supposed closing shop early was a plus of being a small business owner, but it kind of hurt to think about all of the wonderful money they **wouldn't **be making this afternoon. Anyway, Giles was covering the 9am -1pm shift, so Anya was, well and truly, left with nothing to do for the day.

Curling up and laying her head against the arm of the couch, she closed her eyes. She'd wanted to talk to Xander so desperately for the past couple of weeks – for the past few months if she was honest – but he was impossible to pin down.

Hmmmpf. If she could just talk to him, get him to listen to her, maybe they could fix it. Fix what was broken between them.

But he didn't want to talk, didn't want to listen. Not to her. He'd listen to what Willow had to say… what Buffy had to say… but never to what she had to say.

Opening her eyes and rolling on to her back, she stared at the ceiling and softly cursed. She didn't know how much more of this she could take. How much longer she could handle feeling like she was the spare tire in Xander's life – only whipped out when his main tires were out of whack. She wanted – needed – to be with a man who thought she was wonderful. She wanted, and needed, to be with someone who felt she was beautifully vibrant, and not audaciously embarrassing.

Expelling a puff of air she threw her arm over her eyes. She'd tried everything she could think of to win Xander over. She kept the apartment clean. She gave him sex regularly (well, as often as he wanted it, although she could definitely handle a few more rolls in the proverbial hay on a weekly basis). She even shared the money she made with him; purchasing gifts for his tool belt, and home.

Nothing had worked.

Maybe she should dye her hair…. Or try that new makeup that she'd seen in the store.

Anya sat up with a rush. Yes. That was it. She'd go to the store, buy some hair dye and make herself over. If Xander was bored with her… wanting someone new… maybe she could make herself someone he would appreciate… and desire.

**WIW WIW WIW WIW WIW**

An hour and a half later found Anya tapping impatiently at the Summers' door.

'I'm always available when they need me, where are they when I need them?' Anya had already spent half an hour at the store looking at hair colorings and was now completely confused as to whether Honestly Red, Rather Raspberry, Dangerously Dark, Chocolate Cherub, or a list of other colors was going to be the right look for her.

She'd stopped at the dorms, looking for Willow to no avail, so now she was at Buffy's home… looking for another woman's take and opinion on the color dilemma.

Raising her hand to knock again, she stopped when the door finally swung open.

"Dawn!"

"Anya…."

"Um, yes, is Buffy home?"

"Nope."

"Oh Bunny Turds!"

Dawn paused, biting back a laugh, "Uh, do you wanna come in?"

"Will she be back soon?"

"I kinda doubt it. " Dawn stepped to the side and let Anya enter. "She said she was going to look for a job… which these days, I think is code for, 'I'm going to go and spend time with Spike but I don't want you to know about it.'"

Anya headed in with a pout then her eyes widened and she smirked. "Spike? And Buffy?! Ha! I knew it! I knew it! I told Xan--," She paused when she remembered her reason for coming to the Summers' home. "Crap!"

"What's up, Anya?"

"I…" she looked at the younger Summers, "Nothing. I just wanted Buffy's opinion on something."

"Why doesn't anyone ever want my opinion?" Dawn asked petulantly. "I have taste… and style… and, and…. Is it something about weapons? Cuz, that really is more a Buffy thing."

"No. No weapons. Well, maybe umm, womanly weapons."

Dawn plopped down on the couch and grinned. "Womanly weapons! I've got womanly stuff. I mean," she looked down at her frame, "I'm a woman. A young woman. So I have weapons… ish."

Anya looked speculatively at Dawn. She was youthful, fresh-faced, beautiful… perhaps she **could** help.

"Okay." Settling next to Dawn Anya poured out her plan. "I need to win Xander's love and attention and desire back so that we can talk, and listen, and orgasm more together, and I think the best way, the only way left, for me to do that is to change my look, dye my hair, maybe start using some new make up so that he'll notice me again, and I'd like for you to come with me to the convenience store and help me choose a color of hair dye, and maybe some makeup."

"Huh?"

Anya sighed and started again, "I need to win Xander's –"

"No, no. I heard what you said, but, umm, yeah… I'm going to have to go with 'huh' again."

Anya paused, uncertain as to what she had said that was confusing.

"Why are you trying to change in order to make Xander notice you?" Dawn asked the question with a frown. "I mean, I love Xander," she flushed a light shade of pink, "so, I understand you wanting to, ummm, be loved by him, but…," with a rush Dawn spit out her thoughts, "I kinda think if he's too slow, or immature to notice how wonderful you are – the way you are – it's his loss."

"But, maybe … maybe if I just --."

"Geesh! You're no better than Spike!"

"Spike? Me?"

"Yeah… you two are spending way too much time trying to find ways to make someone else notice you."

Anya thought for a minute, "You like Spike. You want him and Buffy to be together. But you don't think he should fight for her?"

"It's not that he shouldn't fight for her… He should… he just needs to make certain she knows that he isn't going away. And he needs to make certain she's aware that with 'Spike' comes 'William' and all the good and bad that that entails. He wants to paint her a rosy picture and he tries to erase parts of himself so that he fits her 'ideals' better. Personally, I think that if Buffy can't take him as he is, she doesn't deserve him." Dawn paused, "on the other hand, if Spike ever hurts my sister, I'll stake him for her."

Dawn smiled at her Buffyesque threat.

"You know, Buffy and Spike ARE in a different situation from you and Xander in some ways. Buffy, for instance, would notice Spike in a room of a thousand vampires. She would sense his presence if she was deaf and blind. But Xander… Xander isn't that way about… about –"

"About me." Anya finished the sentence. "Don't you think that I can make him feel that way about me? Make him notice me, if I just," Anya's hands flew up and she waved them around her face and hair, "changed 'something'?"

"So you're asking me if I think you should become 'less of you' in order to make Xander want you?" Dawn tilted her head to the side in a very Summersish way. "Why would you want to be someone else when you're so great?"

"What if not being 'me' makes 'me' more lovable?" Anya lowered her head, playing with the hem of her skirt.

"'Lovable'" Dawn air-quoted the word, "is Anya saying what Anya wants to say about sex and demons and stuff. Lovable is Anya being a blonde… or a red head, or a brunette… because SHE wants to be blonde, red, brown. Lovable is Anya worrying about making her loved one happy _without_ worrying about how she can make him happy by 'fixing' herself –when she isn't broken."

"So, you're saying 'no' to the hair dye?"

"I'm kinda saying 'no' to the trying to change for anyone. I think I'm saying find someone who makes you happy inside and out, and who loves you for your insides and your outsides."

"A Crebfarn Demon?"

"A whosiwhatsits?"

"A Crebfarn Demon – they mate with their spouses through shedding their skin and melding their organs. The resulting eggs are then placed on the shed skins, and they feed off of them until they hatch."

"Okay, to quote Buffy: "Ewwww!" Erh, I wasn't suggesting you peel off your skin or organ mate or anything. I was kind of suggesting you find out if Xander loves you as you are, and if he doesn't, ummm move on and find someone new. Only," Dawn blushed again, "let the Xan-man down easy, he's kinda fragile even though he's a little immature. There's umm, still hope that he'll grow up someday."

"I don't want to hurt Xander. But, I'm so tired. I'm so at the end of my rope. So… so in need."

"Are we talking sex again?"

"No. Well yes. But no."

"Ummm, okay."

"Sex with Xander is good. Very good. When we have it. But, he has become – lackadaisical about the orgasm thing. He says he is too tired when he comes home from work. Or that he 'just wants to cuddle.' And while cuddling is good… really… should it ever be 'just cuddling'? Doesn't the male of the human species always want more than cuddling? I am personally fed up with cuddling!"

"So we ARE talking sex?"

"No… I got sidetracked."

Dawn giggled.

"Well, sex is distracting." She glanced at Dawn. "Don't tell your sister I said that to you, she's likely to be frustrated with me for chatting with you about this."

"Buffy gets prudey around me. Although… ahem, just between you me and the wall, I don't think she's quite that prudey around Spike."

They both giggled and Anya slipped off her shoes and curled up on the couch, soberly admitting to Dawn, "I can't be alone."

"Alone?"

"Without someone… someone to hold me… value me."

"Well that sets women's lib back about a thousand years."

"I'm a thousand plus years old!"

"Women don't neeeeed men anymore Anya."

"Well, we may not need them, but they – and their manly parts – are awfully nice to have around."

"Finding your value in how a man – Xander… any man – feels about you: not a good thing." Dawn philosophized, "Mom always use to say that as soon as we learned to love ourselves we'd be open to finding – and accepting – love from someone else." Her face brightened slightly at the memory of her mother. "Of course, coming to realize that Xander may not be the right one for you, IS kind of self-love… I mean… it's you realizing you deserve to be appreciated. Right?"

"Umm, right."

Dawn raised an eyebrow at the lack of certainty in Anya's voice.

"You know what you should be looking for?" She mused aloud. "You should be looking for someone like Giles. Someone mature enough to handle your… uh… Anyaisms without being sent for a loop by them."

"Anyaisms?"

"Declarations of sex needs, sex desires, sex experiences, interspecial sexual occurrences: Anyaisms."

"Why is sex so disturbing for humans?"

"It isn't… not for all humans. I'm personally looking forward to sex."

Anya looked at Dawn then puffed out, "I think I'm feeling kind of like Buffy would if she heard you say that."

Dawn pouted, "Oh good lord! I'm 17 yrs old… sex is on my mind. And for most of the girls in my school… sex is in their beds!"

"It's just strange to hear you speak so openly about sex."

"One word: Anyaisms."

"Umm yeah… okay."

"As I was saying… you should find a guy like Giles. Mature. Cute." Dawn sat up straighter, a gleam in her eye. "He's tall, and intelligent."

"His brain is quite impressive."

"He knows a lot of stuff about… uh, a lot of stuff." Looking down at her nails, Dawn teased subtly. "Although, I suppose someone like Giles is too old for you."

"Giles isn't Old!"

"And while he's cute… I don't know if you should settle for 'just cute'… you need someone really hot."

"Giles isn't just cute, he's handsome! Have you ever seen him when he takes his glasses off…? His eyes are – just really really kind of warm… and kind… and intense."

Dawn slipped one more criteria in. "Well maybe Giles is kinda handsome, in an older man way, but you also need someone who can fulfill, uh, or meet your umm, desires. Someone who when they kiss you, they kinda make you melt."

"Oh Giles has melty kisses." Anya slapped her hand over her mouth as soon as the words left her mouth.

Dawn crowed, "Ha! I knew you liked Giles! You have a thing for Giles!"

"No I don't!"

Dawn just smiled.

"I don't! Just because I think he has a cute smile, and wonderful eyes. And he's all tall and manly-manly like…."

"Don't forget the smarts."

"No, I won't. I mean… his brain is very attractive. And he has that wonderful British humor. But those things don't mean that I like him or, or anything."

"What about the kissage?"

"Kissage?"

"You know what Giles kisses like… from the spell that Willow cast?" Dawn lifted a brow questioningly.

"Well, yes, ummm, yes."

"You know, **and** you liked it!"

Anya threw her frame back against the cushions of the couch. "I can't like Giles, I'm with Xander!"

"Are you happy with Xander?"

"Yes! Most of the time…. Sometimes…. No." Anya hung her head.

"So really, how 'with him' are you?"

"So you're suggesting I should jump Giles' bones?"

"No!! Ewww!" Dawn shuddered. "And again I say, EWWWWWW! I can handle you and Giles as a couple… but there should be no mentioning of bones… or jumping… or jumping bones…. Ewwwww!"

Anya's face melted in the face of memories she hadn't allowed herself to access for months. The memories of being kissed by Giles. Being held by him. His sheer manliness. "He has lovely bones," she said dreamily.

"EWW EWW EWWWWW! Okay, I take it back, I AM too young to hear people talk about sex; Giles-type sex." Dawn stood up. "Tell you what… let's talk cookies."

"Cookies?" Anya joined Dawn as she moved into the kitchen.

"I've heard that the fastest way to a man's heart is through his stomach."

"Actually, that's only partially true. The fastest way to a man's heart is through his chest… if you are applying enough force. Of course, if you're weaker, or, if you have a lot of time and just want to cause him extensive pain, then you should go through his stomach."

Dawn glanced over her shoulder at Anya. "There really IS knowledge that shouldn't be shared… and I think that what you just shared, yeah, that was one of those pieces of knowledge…. AS I was saying, the fastest way to a man's heart is through his stomach, **and** since we have the Scooby thing tonight, I was thinking, we could make – well YOU could make – cookies and take them over to Giles'. You know… show off your baking skills… make him think about you in a lil' apron in the kitchen… baking just for him…."

"There are two problems with your little plot, 1) Xander will be at Giles' tonight too."

"Yup! And either he'll finally see how close he is to possibly losing you, or, he'll realize that he may not be right for you. Bring on problem number two."

"Okay. Problem 2) I can't bake."

Dawn laughed, "I live with Buffy; it's either learn to cook or die of starvation. I've got you covered, Anya!"


	3. Cookies Are Innocent

**TITLE** What I Want  
**FANDOM** Buffy The Vampire Slayer  
**PAIRING** Ganya Spuffy… More ganya than anything  
**CHAP** 3 (of 6?) Cookies Are Innocent  
**AUTHOR** Devylish  
**WORDS** 3064  
**WARNINGS** none  
**RATING** PG  
**PLOT** AU timeline, Tara's around, Dawn is 17, Anya and Xander are together but not engaged, Spike and Buffy are 'foolin' around' but it's still a secret – and Buffy is still torn about how she feels for Spike. Oh and yes… yes, Giles and Anya SHOULD be together!  
**AN** What a fricking difference a beta makes!! And TWO, TWO is better than one! **mobilealh**and**Xela Ebonie**thanks ever so much for helping me beat back the elliptical monster that seems to live in me!! You were BOTH dolls and oh soooo much help! All remaining mistakes are mine mine mine!!  
**AN2** part of my entry for the Summer of Giles LJ  
**AN3** BTW I'm sure that Ella was quite a genteel woman … despite what Anya may suggest.  
**AN4** Chap 4 is in my head lol

**WiW WiW WiW WiW WiW**

After spending a couple of hours baking – or, learning how to bake – with Dawn, Anya had headed back home: oatmeal raisin, double chocolate chip, and shortbread cookies in tow. She'd then spent what seemed like hours, picking out an outfit that said: 'Giles, I think I might, kinda, sorta, like you' at the same time that it said 'Xander, hey, remember me?'.

And now she was pacing outside of Giles' home, bearing cookies that might mean a heck of a lot more than just a few pounds at the waist. 'This is stupid. Dumb. I shouldn't be here. I should be at home doing…. Doing what?' She sighed. 'Anyankah, you're not doing anything wrong, you're just bringing the man cookies. Cookies are harmless. Innocent. They mean nothing.' She raised her hand and knocked on his door before she could change her mind again.

As she waited, she could feel her heart beating against her ribcage, keeping time with the passing seconds. 'This is why I hate being human. I was never bothered with fragile hearts and stupid, innocent cookies when I was a demon.'

She tapped her foot impatiently and knocked again. 'And I definitely didn't have to worry about stupid men when I was a demon, OR stupid teenagers with stupid plans!' Anya shifted the cookies in her arms, "The way to a man's heart is through his – pfft!" She tapped at the door again, 'Right! Like that makes any sense whatsoever! And why am I spending my whole day waiting at peoples' doors?'

She frowned. 'It seems like I'm always waiting for someone or something these days.' Anya glanced down at her feet. 'And these heels are so NOT comfortable to be waiting in!'

**WiW WiW WiW WiW WiW**

Giles dropped the towel from his hair, and draped it around his neck. Grabbing the belt of his grey robe, he marched downstairs, closing the robe as he walked.

He peered at the clock as he headed down the steps, 2:00pm. He'd put in four hours at the shop and returned home covered in more dust and grime than he ever cared to see again. And he'd just climbed out of a very necessary shower when he'd heard the insistent knocking at his apartment door.

Slippers on feet, robe secured, Giles reached for the handle as yet another resolute knock was delivered.

"Anya?!"

"Giles!" She took in his wet hair, curly from the shower, the few stray beads of water at his neck, and the blue-grey robe wrapped around him… keeping her from seeing him au naturel.

She'd never cursed a piece of clothing before.

"Anya, wh-what are you doing here? Is everything alright?!"

"I brought cookies." She shoved the 'innocent' offerings toward him.

"Cookies? Cookies. Yes… erh, well, umm, come in, come in." He stepped back from the door, and held his hands out for the tins she was carrying. His fingers grazed hers as he took the treats, and he had to force himself to keep breathing. 'She belongs to Xander you stupid git… despite what Spike might suggest.'

"Are you naked beneath your robe?" The words, like many of her words, were out of her mouth before she even knew she was speaking.

"Erh," Giles looked down at his outfit. He'd quite forgotten he was wearing next to nothing; although now, he definitely wished he were wearing something more dapper. Or at least something not quite so potentially revealing. He flushed but answered her question, "More or less, yes. I just got out of the shower and…." Giles stopped. "Is something the matter, Anya?"

'Don't look at his robe. Don't look at his robe. Don't look… he just asked you something. Crap!' Anya focused on Giles' face. "Hmm? Oh. No. Nothing." She repeated her opening lines, "I brought cookies." She waved her hands in the direction of the treats still being nestled against his chest.

"Yes, I – I see." He scratched his head. "So you're not in need of anything else?"

Anya's face dropped. 'He doesn't want me around. Stupid heart/stomach theory! Stupid innocent cookies!'

Giles read the look of disappointment on her face and backpedaled. "Not that you're not always welcome in my home. You are. I – I just wasn't expecting you this afternoon. This evening, yes, but not quite at this…." Again his voice dropped off.

"Well, if you don't mind? I was thinking that maybe I could help you get ready." And then her eyes dropped to the knot that held his robe closed. "Umm… ready for the party. Not getting dressed. I…" 'stop babbling Anya', "I'm certain you can handle that part yourself."

"Yes. Yes. Well, right. Help." A picture of her undoing his dressing gown and wrapping her arms around his waist flitted through his mind. "Erh, well why don't I just pop these in to the kitchen for keeping and, ummm, why don't you follow me. We'll see what still needs to be done."

Setting the cookies on the counter, Giles looked around the kitchen, somewhat at a loss for an activity for Anya to perform. It wasn't that he couldn't actually use her help, he could, but, her presence… alone in his home with him, while he was half dressed – was distracting to say the least.

'Think, Giles! It's what you're bloody well known for. At least currently what you're known for. Right. I need to get dressed first, and then perhaps I can focus a bit more.'

"Anya, I tell you what, why don't you take a look at my album collection and select some pieces for us to listen to tonight? I was going to do that last night but, I – I got distracted."

"Music! I can do music! Lead me to the music."

Settling Anya on a chair by his CDs and vinyl collection, Giles headed up to the safety of his bedroom.

Once upstairs he leaned against a wall with one hand. 'Deep breaths, mate. Deep fucking breaths.'

It took Giles all of 3 minutes to: strip, redress, run a comb through his hair, head half way down the stairs, dash back up the steps, splash on some cologne, remind himself to breathe deeply again, then slowly saunter down the stairs.

It took Anya **less** than 3 minutes to find a cd and place it in the stereo. When Giles reached the bottom of the steps he froze, watching her as she slowly swayed around the room, humming with her eyes closed.

Half words floated out of her:

… _The thrill of the thought  
__That you might give a thought  
To my plea  
__Casts a spell over me,  
__So I say to myself,  
__Get a hold of yourself  
__Can't you see  
__It never can be?_

As Anya floated around the couch humming the jazz standard, she opened her eyes to find Giles standing at the bottom of the stairs, watching her. She wasn't certain what specific shade she was turning, but she knew she was definitely blushing.

"I – it's Ella Fitzgerald." She offered as if that explained everything.

_You go to my head  
__Like a smile that makes my temperature rise  
__Like a summer with a thousand Julys  
__You intoxicate my soul  
__With your eyes_

Giles smiled. "It is indeed. One of my favorite vocalists. Quite a pure voice – she proves the value of the human voice as an instrument."

"She could also swear like a sailor." Anya pushed a strand of hair behind her ear.

"You – you knew Ella Fitzgerald?"

"I was a friend of a friend, but, yeah."

Giles shook his head. "You really must tell me more about some of your experiences. I can't even begin to imagine what you've seen. Heard. Who you've met." He moved past her, not seeing the sudden swell of tears in her eyes. "Let's go get this meal underway shall we?"

_Though I'm certain that this heart of mine  
__Hasn't a ghost of a chance in this crazy romance  
__You go to my head_

Anya took a steadying breath and blinked her eyes rapidly, pushing back the emotion that had fluttered through her. Giles wanted to hear what she had to say. He wanted to hear about her life. Okay, maybe he really only wanted to hear about the people and things she'd seen, but that counted for something, didn't it? Turning on her heel she followed Giles into the kitchen, music trailing after them.

_The thrill of the thought  
__That you might give a thought  
__To my plea  
__Casts a spell over me  
__Still I say to myself  
__Get a hold of yourself  
__Can't you see that it never can be?_

**WiW WiW WiW WiW WiW WiW**

"Really?!"

Giles stirred the contents of the pot once more then put the lid back on. "Really." He grinned, "I was about nineteen at the time," he leaned against the counter, "and my friends and I were rapscallions, hell on wheels… once we'd managed to nick them."

"So," Anya sipped the wine that Giles had poured for her earlier, "what you're saying, is if I go to a dealership, and I see a car that I want, I could maybe bring you along to hot-wire it for me or something?"

He laughed. **The** Giles' laugh; the one that made the lines around his eyes and his lips crinkle in a sexy, purely Gilesian way.

"I haven't actually hot-wired a car in quite a few years. I'm afraid my skills are probably quite rusty."

'I bet your skills are just fine.' Anya looked up from her glass hoping that she hadn't verbalized her last thought. No, Giles was looking at his wine glass, apparently lost in memories. "Does anyone ever call you 'Rupert'?"

He looked up, surprised at the change in topic. "Erh, very few people do. Jenny – Ms. Calendar did. Ethan. Spike does at times – or he uses a derivative thereof. And of course you did when –." Giles stopped. They'd never really spoken about that night; the night of Randy and Joan, Rupert and Anya.

"The night we were a couple," Anya finished for him.

"Right."

Silence filled the small kitchen.

It's amazing how much room 'silence' actually takes up.

"That was a good night." Anya heard the words leaving her and she couldn't stop them. She wasn't certain she wanted to.

His leveled his gaze at her, curious as to what she was truly saying. Was she intimating that she felt being part of a couple, with him, had been good? Or was she simply suggesting that having those few hours of forgetfulness had been good – freeing?

Looking up at Giles, Anya tried to ease the tension of the moment by adding, "Well, it was a good night until the bunnies." She shivered.

"It – it was a good night for me too."

Anya lifted her chin and tried to read the words hiding in his eyes.

'Oh fuck it all to hell! Be a man, Giles.' He took a deep breath, "Anya, I –."

"GILES!" Buffy's voice burst through the delicate bubble that had been created in the kitchen.

He smiled wryly at Buffy's timing and slid his glasses back on.

"We're in the kitchen," he called out.

"We?" Buffy busted into the kitchen gazing around curiously, "Who's – oh hey, Anya." Buffy turned back to her watcher, "Giles?"

"Yes, Buffy?" The weary, parental tone was apparent to Anya, but totally missed by Buffy.

"Seriously, can I kill Spike?"

"Is he still neutered?"

"Oi! Watch the 'neutered' talk!" Spike's lean form followed Buffy's into the suddenly shrinking kitchen.

Buffy smiled sweetly and turned to Spike, even though she was answering Giles' question. "Yes, he's still neutered, impotent, and otherwise 'unable to perform at full capacity'."

"Hey!"

"Then, no, I'm sorry, Buffy, you can not kill Spike. Out of curiosity, what did he do this time to earn your wrath?"

She cocked her head to the side in consideration. "Do I really have to have a reason?"

"It might be easier if you two just released some sexual tension. You won't want to kill him quite so much, and, I'm sure," Anya appraised Spike's figure, "it would also provide you both with some wonderful orgasmic pleasure."

Giles spluttered into his wine.

Buffy turned a shade of red that Anya was pretty certain was similar to the shade she'd been a few hours ago.

Spike grinned at Anya and rolled on the balls and heels of his boots. "Told Rupes here that you were a smart bird."

"Um, yes, as smart and beautiful of a bird, erh, woman, as she may be Spike, I'm going to suggest we curtail this conversation, and adjourn to the living room."

The last one to head out the door that Spike held open for group, Giles murmured a barely audible 'behave yourself' to the vampire as he passed him.

**WiW WiW WiW WiW WiW WiW**

A half an hour later found the whole gang save Xander sitting in various spots in Giles' home, warm bowls of homemade chili in hand; each topped with the fixings… fritos, cheese, sour cream, avocados.

Willow rested her head against Tara's knee and sighed deeply. "Why did it take so long for us to find out that you make such an amazing chili?"

He beamed at the compliment. "I'm pleased that you like it."

"Like?! I may make love to a bowl of it." As soon as she realized what she'd said, Willow lifted her big eyes from the bowl in front of her. "That totally came out wrong. Cuz I so don't want to make love to a bowl of chili. First of all, it has spices in it, and those spices shouldn't go certain places, and secondly, I have Tara… and actually, Tara is my first reason for not wanting to make love to a bowl of chili. The spices are the second reason. Tara is much more satisfying than your chili. Umm, not that I should necessarily be comparing her to – I'm going to just shut up now."

From her seat on the couch, Tara reached down and smoothed her hand through Willow's hair, soothing the frazzled witch. "Willow is right Giles, your chili is w-wonderful."

"Um, thank you, ladies."

"So to drastically move the conversation away from the topic of sex –"

"Dawn!" Buffy chirped

"What? Now I can't even 'say' the word sex?"

Buffy eyed Dawn.

"Fine. _To move the conversation away from the topic of s-e-x_, where's the Xan-man?"

Anya realized everyone was looking to her for an answer. "He should be here soon. He had to work the 8am shift today."

"Stop it!" Buffy hissed.

Everyone looked at her, noticing perhaps for the first time, that she was seated next Spike. A Spike who was trying way too hard to look innocent.

"Everything all right over there, _children_?" Giles questioned the two constantly squabbling adults.

"Fine. Fine. Thanks for asking, mate, and for the extra chili peppers."

Giles hemmed and hawed quietly, embarrassed at having his slight act of kindness for Spike pointed out. And no, it didn't help to have Buffy staring at him questioningly.

Anya slowly tuned out the chatter of the group around her, and instead focused on watching them. Tara and Willow were seated close to one another, touching shoulder to leg, hand to head. Quietly, but definitively WITH one another. Appreciating the very nearness of the one they loved.

Anya turned her head to study Buffy and Spike. The slayer was seated next to her vampire, unconsciously laying claim to her mate/mate to be, whether she knew it or not. Anya noticed with a wry smile that In the middle of Giles' living room, as everyone ate and chatted, Spike was surreptitiously caressing Buffy's outer thigh; his finger subtly rubbing up and down the denim of her jeans. To most observers, his actions would seem accidental, but Anya wasn't most observers. She was an ex-demon. An ex-demon whose whole focus for hundreds of years was to study love in all of its facets: its aberrations, and its normalcies.

Spike and Buffy might arguably be an aberration of love, but they weren't an abomination. And they WERE in love. Or at least, Spike was.

When he realized he was being watched, his strokes stopped, but as soon as he realized that it was Anya who was watching him, he smirked in her direction before continuing his guarded appreciation of his slayer.

Anya sighed; the Witches, the Vampire and the Slayer – couples. In love, head over heels, impossible couples.

Who would have thought Willow would fall for Tara? And who would have **ever** planned for Spike and Buffy to fall for one another? Did God, or The Powers That Be, or, or Shiva… plan this stuff? Or did they just role the dice and let them fall where they may?

Anya surreptitiously glanced at Rupert as he sat comfortably in his armchair. If a Jewish Wiccan and a small town southern girl, and the Slayer of Slayers and the greatest Slayer to ever live met with the approval of TPTB, did an ex-vengeance demon and an ex-watcher maybe stand a chance at gaining their approval?

Anya smiled softly, hopefully, to herself.

Giles watched his family as they chatted comfortably about inconsequential, wonderfully frivolous things; at the moment, life and death weren't an issue for any of them. He loved to see them at peace and happy. These moments were rare and therefore, precious. Rare and precious like the wistful smile that was gracing Anya's face. He let his eyes take in her slender figure. She was curled up on the floor, half way between the couch and his chair; barefoot, in jeans and a silky blue top. She was relaxed, seemingly content, and undeniably beautiful.

"Hey Peeps!" Xander hollered as he burst into the apartment.

"Xander!"

"Xan"

"Whelp."

"Peeps?" Dawn questioned. "I don't think you can pull 'peeps' off."

"Welcome," Giles yanked his eyes away from Anya's frame, almost as he were a child almost caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He stopped looking at her so quickly that he missed the way her frame straightened and tightened as Xander entered the apartment. "Let me show you the way to the food."

"Food! Food gooooooood!"


	4. Chalath Horns

**TITLE** What I Want  
**FANDOM** Buffy The Vampire Slayer  
**PAIRING** Ganya Spuffy… Big bit o' Spuffy in this one.  
**CHAP 4** (of 6?) Chalath Horns  
**AUTHOR** Devylish  
**WORDS** 3554  
**WARNINGS** none  
**RATING** R .. .Rating change  
**AU timeline**, Tara's around, Dawn is 17, Anya and Xander are together but not engaged, Spike and Buffy are 'foolin' around' but it's still a secret – and Buffy is still torn about how she feels for Spike. Oh and yes… yes, Giles and Anya SHOULD be together!  
**DISCLAIMER** I own giles and anya and spike and buffy… and you'll be happy to hear that I'm bringing BTVS back to tv so that we can all ogle them some more. . ..HEH! A major lie…. I own nothing but my fantasies… (Yeah, no, I don't own Yoda either).  
**AN** Welcome to my taste of ganya, with a sprinkle of spuffy spice.  
**AN** Again with the thanks to: mobilealh and Xela Ebonie You have both been fabulous, and patient. _I think they think I forgot about this fic! Au contraire, mon freres! _Anyway: They beta'd the best they could, and then I changed stuff, so HAH all remaining mistakes are mine mine mine!!

**WiW WiW WiW WiW WiW**

Spike held a hand to her belly, pressing her small form against the outside wall of the crypt as he dipped his head and licked a small trail along the fragile column of her neck. He loved when she let him nibble at her neck, teasing and tempting them both. Hell, he loved it when she let him anywhere near her. And tonight, so far, had been a very good night. His slayer was definitely being more _receptive_ of his touches, of his nearness, than she had been on other nights. She'd let him sit directly next to her at Giles' this evening, let him touch her leg while everyone was within seeing distance; although, he was pretty certain she'd deny it all if he pushed the topic. 'Ahh, well, can't have it all; at least not yet.' He grinned into Buffy's neck.

"Watch the teeth, vampire." Buffy warned halfheartedly as she curled her hands through Spike's blonde locks. He had great hair, especially after she'd played with it for a bit, loosening some of the gel and spray he used to keep it in check. She loved how soft it felt, how thick and silky, and after a night in bed, there were those cute little curls that just…. Buffy stopped. _Cute!? She soooooo needed therapy. Seriously, because a dangerous, master vampire really could not, __**should not, **__be labeled as cute_. She sighed and straightened her back, dropping her hands to his chest to push away from him.

Spike could feel Buffy's body tighten and tense up beneath his hands; he hated it when her mind kicked in and began to give her reasons to doubt how good the two of them were together. He made a preemptive strike. "Slayer," his voice was low and heavy as he dipped his hands up under the hem of her top, his skin leaving a trail of coolness along her warm flesh. "Slayer, Luv, you know your Watcher is in love, yeah?" Physical and mental distraction missiles deployed.

"Hmm? What?!" Her head shot up from Spike's collarbone.

"Yeah." He lifted his hand higher along her body until he was cupping one of her lace encased breasts. "Rupes is in love."

"Giles?!" Buffy repeated fuzzily, her mind torn between surprise at the news and the shocks of pleasure his talented hands were sending through her body.

"Only Watcher you have now, Luv, right?" Spike grazed Buffy's nipple with his left thumb, teasing the sensitive nub with slow, circular strokes. His other hand was at her hip, possessively kneading the curves there.

"Giles is in love? Wi-with who?" Buffy's breath caught as Spike used his hand to flick open the front clasp of her bra.

"Guess." Spike wanted to keep her distracted for just a bit longer. He moved the hand that was at her hip to the top of her jeans, working his fingers between the denim material and her warm skin.

"Guess? Mmmmm." Buffy's voice had dropped to a husky soft whisper, and her mind had dropped away altogether. "Guess what?"

Spike let a quiet laugh escape his throat before he dipped in and captured Buffy's lips again. A minute later, when she needed to breathe, he resumed his sweet assault of the skin at her neck; his fingers delving smoothly into the liquid warmth between her legs. If he played his game right, Spike could work his slayer up into such a state of orgasmic satiation, she'd stay the night with him again.

It had only happened a couple of times, her being so overwhelmed with bliss and tiredness that she didn't get out of his bed; but instead, simply snuggled closer, closing her eyes against his chest, her arm wrapped around his waist. Spike almost loved the charming snuggling of the slayer's tired body against his more than he loved the heat, the wet warmth of her body in the midst of ecstasy.

So it was with this in mind that he brought her to the edge of climax with his hands, his lips, and his murmured words before he pulled away.

The 'Noooo!" was out of Buffy's mouth before she could stop it. Her glazed eyes snapped opened, "Come back." She wrapped a second leg around Spike's hips so that he was bearing all of her weight and she could feel his hard length against her center, teasing both of them.

Spike lifted her a little higher in his arms as he promised her, "'m not leavin' you Luv. Wouldn't leave my girl like this. Wouldn't leave you ever." He small kisses to her jaw line as he made his way to the door of his crypt. "Just going to make us a little more comfortable, yeah?"

As he shut the door behind them Buffy hazily, sexily agreed "Ohhhhh, yeah."

**WiW WiW WiW WiW WiW**

When he felt Buffy poking at his chest with her finger, Spike's inner clock told him that it couldn't be any later than 6 a.m.

Her head was still nestled against his shoulder, but if the poking, and the sing-songy way that she was calling his name were any clue, she was definitely trying to wake him up.

"Spiiiiiikkke." Poke.

"Yo, Spikey." Poke.

Poke.

He lay wide awake, eyes closed, enjoying playful, teasing Buffy too much to admit that he was conscious just yet.

Buffy repositioned her head against his chest.

"Spikkeeeeeeyyyy." Poke.

"One Quarter of the Scourge of Europe." Poke.

Then she tilted up and whispered against his neck, "Big Bad?"

He smiled and ran his hand along her bare arm. "Got my attention now, Pet."

A giggle was followed by a demand delivered in a half-serious tone. "Okay mister. Give! Is Giles really in love with someone, or was that just an evil vampire ploy to sidetrack me into falling into your bed?"

"Bit o' both really. Great plan, that just happens to involve the truth."

"So who's he in love with? And how'd you find out before me!?"

Spike hesitated for a second; Buffy cared about both Xander and Giles so she might not handle the news of Giles having a thing for Anya all that well.

Buffy had angled her head up so that it was resting on the hand that she had curled across Spike's chest, and she was looking at him, reading his thoughts as they flickered across his expressive face. "What? What is it? Who is it?"

"Anya."

"Giles has a thing for…? Really?!"

"Rupes' has it bad."

"Does, does Anya know? Does Xander know?!"

"I don't think so, on both counts. But, erh, I think the feelings are reciprocated."

"Anya likes Giles?!"

"From what I've seen, yeah."

She was silent for a second, "I-I guess I can see Giles and Anya together. I mean, he has the patience of a saint sometimes, as evidenced by his dealing with me for so many years." She ignored Spike's chuckle. "And Anya, well, she can be a bit high maintenance."

"Oh, I don't know about that. I think she's been a bit more frantic than is natural to her, cuz, erh, she's with the whelp."

Buffy wrapped her leg over one of Spike's thighs. "Xander. Crap, how's he going to take this?"

"Do you really think he was meant to be with her?"

"Well – I like that she made him happy. Happier. Content." Her foot was slowly, carelessly journeying along Spike's calf. "Although, I always thought that Xander needed someone, someone who would make him grow up."

"Oh, Harris needs to grow up A LOT," Spike intoned.

"Be nice, Spike." She took her hand from underneath her chin and curved her fingers over his bare nipple. The resulting purr was intoxicating. "How come you know all this stuff and I don't?!"

"Because," Spike reached under Buffy's arms and pulled her up so that they were face to face. "Because, like Rupes, I too am in love with a beautiful woman who doesn't know I truly love her. Might be that makes me able to see the same plight in others."

"Spike…" Buffy's eyes shaded with apprehension. Her fight or flee face was falling into place.

Spike shook his head slightly; it still amazed him that the only thing that his slayer was ever really afraid of was her own emotions. Surprising her before she could push away from him and run away, he rolled them over so that Buffy was on her back with his body pressed against hers. He wasn't applying any force, she could throw him off if she really wanted to, but he knew… he hoped, that somewhere inside, she didn't really want to.

"Slayer, Buffy." He could feel her heartbeat picking up. Feel it and hear it. "I love you, and I'm never going to stop loving you. No matter how much that bloody fucking well scares you."

Spike brushed his lips against Buffy's and he was both surprised and pleased when he felt her melt into him. Soon, they were both lost in the sensation, the pleasure of being touched by the other.

**WiW WiW WiW WiW WiW**

Anya was wide awake. Wide awake, laying in bed next to Xander, and fidgeting. 'And it isn't the good kind of fidgeting either,' she mused silently. No, her fidgeting had nothing to do with orgasms and pleasure, and everything to do with human hearts and minds. 'Stupid humanness.'

Anya curled onto her side and let her eyes trail around the room, curving over the dresser and the closet; touching and feeling them with her eyes. There were so many memories contained in every nook and cranny of the apartment. Memories of sitting on the couch laughing with Xander; memories of standing in the kitchen kissing and being kissed by him.

The memories were sweet, but they were also bittersweet – trailing as they were, after her burgeoning awareness that _memories_ were all she and Xander had left. Memories were all that they were made up of: Reminiscences. Recollections. Use-to-be's.

The two of them hadn't smiled or laughed or caressed one another in forever. Not truly, not with meaning. Kissing her on the top of her head as he left the house was an absentminded afterthought on Xander's part. Talking to her, sharing his day with her – she couldn't remember the last time he'd done that.

She wasn't the first thing on his mind in the morning or the last thing on his mind at night. And, well, while some people, some couples might exist, _subsist,_ in a life like that, Anya wanted more. She wanted Xander… or rather, she'd spent the past few years of her life, wanting Xander to desire her the way she desired him; but he didn't yearn for her. She wasn't his first thought… his last thought… and she doubted she was very many of the thoughts that were in-between.

She wasn't positive that they were 'done' with one another, but more and more, second by second, the world they'd created seemed to be crumbling around her. Sifting like sand through her fingertips.

Last night, at Giles', another few particles of sand had drifted through her hands, and she had realized, fully and completely, that she and Xander were not what she hoped they would be. They were, instead, just shadows of a dream. Shadows of what she'd seen in the eyes of Tara and Willow.

… They weren't even as solid or real as the ethereal Buffy and Spike were.

Anya tucked her hand under her head, lost in thought. When Xander had arrived at the party last night, she'd been overwhelmed with emotions. She'd found herself excited by her fleeting and enthralling 'Giles' thoughts. And she'd been relieved to finally find herself opening her eyes and looking around herself; relieved to be looking at Xander and herself from the 'outside', for the first time ever

'Yup. Excited and relieved. That's me! ... Excited, relieved, and oh, and did I forget to mention the SCARED part?'

She was Twitchy-nosed, pink-eyed, big-eared, rabbit-nearby _scared_. More scared than she'd ever been in her human life. She was standing at a precipice and she was about to take a blind step.

Wide awake and fidgeting.

**WIWWIWWIWWIW**

Anya rolled over and faced the sleeping Xander; his long lashes, curly riotous dark hair… so cute. She wondered if, somewhere in his sleep, he was thinking of her. She doubted it, but she wondered none the less. She stared at him, wishing she could read his mind and find all of the answers to her questions.

She stared and stared and stared.

She stared him into wakefulness.

Sniffing and wiggling his itching nose, Xander opened his eyes to find Anya studying him. She was looking at him kjnd of like a scientist would look at a lab rat, trying to decipher what makes it move around the maze the way it does. With a yawn, he grinned at her.

Anya felt her heart jump, just a bit, in response to Xander's goofy, familiar smile. She'd been crazy about that smile from the first time she saw it. It hurt to think that she inspired it so rarely these days….

'Oh wait, his lips are moving. He's talking. I should probably pay attention.'

"What?"

"Dawn is going to be a handful for some lucky guy."

His first words, first thoughts, of the day are of Dawn?

"She's hilarious. I was just thinking about that thing she said last night. The thing about marshmallows and chocolate–"

Anya closed her eyes; she loved Dawn, but right now, she definitely didn't want to talk about her. Interrupting Xander's musings about the youngest Summers, she asked, "Why didn't you sit next to me?"

He stopped mid-sentence. "Huh?"

"I want to know why you didn't sit next to me."

Xander stretched, sighed, and rolled over so that he was fully on his side. "And again, I say with the "huh"?"

"Last night, Xander. At Giles'. You came in, got your food, and sat down next to Dawn."

"And?"

Anya threw up her hands in exasperation. "Xander, couples, people who care about each other, should sit next to one another."

"Jesus, Anya! So you're saying because I didn't sit next to you while I ate my chili, it somehow means we're not a couple?"

"Xander, it's not just last night. Or the sitting next to me stuff. It's everything." She flopped onto her back and crossed her arms over her waist.

"Everything? That's a big pot o' stuff. Can we maybe narrow it down to one or two things?"

"Do you want to have sex with me?"

Xander opened his mouth then shut it. Lifting his hand he scratched the back of his neck. "Ahn, Hun, you've lost me again. "

"It's not a difficult question Xander. Do you want to have sex with me?"

"Now? I thought we were talking about 'everything'."

"We are!"

Xander paused then shook his head before starting again. "Erhhhh. Umm, I'm still a little tired from last night. It was a long day – early shift, the party, but I suppose I could do it… mornings are always a good time for _Alexander the Great_. Unless you want to wait until after breakfast?" He leaned down to deliver a peck on her cheek.

"No."

"No?"

"I'm - I'm moving out Xander."

"What?! Why? Because I want to have sex after waffles? Th-that doesn't make sense."

"Xander, it makes more sense than anything I've done in a long time." She rolled back over to face him, lifting her hand to touch his jaw. "I think it would be good for us to spend some time apart."

No man wants to hear that. Even if somewhere in his mind he knows it's the way things _should_ be. "What?! Wait. Why?" Xander took a deep breath and focused. "We need to talk about this."

"That's just it Xander, I've wanted to talk, and listen, and kiss, and orgasm with you for weeks, months, now, and – nothing." She nervously pushed a strand away from her eyes and behind her ear. "But I've realized that I can't just wait for you to _maybe_ decide that I'm the one you want to talk to. The one you want to sit next to." She touched his face again. "Xander, I need to know that my man WANTS me. All of me. What I say, what I think… my body. All of me."

"And because I didn't sit next to you …?"

"Xander, that was only a sign," she paused and scrunched up her face in thought, "or was it a symptom? Anyway, it was just the final 'proof' that I needed. We don't pleasure one another often enough. We don't sit next to each other anymore. We don't talk to one another about our days, or our dreams." She paused then delivered her definitive explanation. "The man I am with has to be able to handle my residual demonness."

Xander started slightly, "Residual demonness?"

Anya smiled wryly, "The fact that I was a demon and still have demon friends. The fact that I have knowledge and experiences from my demon years that might be worthy, or important, or just fun and interesting to know. You've always had issues with Ahnyanka."

Xander visibly relaxed, "Oh, that kind of residual demonness. Ahn, I'll work harder at – at appreciating your residual stuff. I love you. I don't want to lose you."

"As that little green man from that movie you like so much says, _Do, or do not. There is no try_. Xander, you either accept who/what I am, or you don't." She ran her fingers through the dark curls that framed his face. "You don't really love me. Well maybe you do. Maybe it's the difference between being IN love with someone and simply loving them. You love Buffy, and you love Willow, and you, you love Giles. But you're not in love with any of them. I think I fall into that category as well. The only difference being, that you and I have had sex with one another." She paused, "I think having me around has been pleasurable for you." She quickly amended her statement as he opened his mouth to speak. "For both of us, it's been pleasant for us both. But I'm really like a Chalath demon's horn to you."

"Umm. Okay." Xander drew a breath and remained silent for five full seconds before giving in. "Crap, I don't want to do it, but I have to ask. What's a Chalath horn and what does it have to do with us?"

Anya grinned. "Chalath demons have, within their own close knit group, decided that they are meek and shy of nature. For them to 'succeed' in the demon world they believe, true or untrue, that they need to keep their horns – which fall off when they're about five years old – with them at all times. They believe the horns provide them with strength when they are fighting and they take quite good care of them; they've even evolved to have little pouches right over their sternums that they can tuck their horns into for safekeeping. Anyway, Chalath's will fight, to the death if necessary, to keep their horns."

"This relates to our situation, how?"

Anya patiently continued, "Well, Chalath's don't really need their horns. Fights between Chalath's and other races have shown that a Chalath without her horn can kick some serious ass. And," she added, "Their horns are regenerative. So within a couple of weeks of losing their portable horns, their bodies seem to recognize a chemical imbalance or something, and they grow new ones, which they can replace their old ones with."

"So why do they fight so hard to keep the old ones… or any horns at all?"

"Exactly!" Anya settled back against her pillow, happy that Xander had caught on.

Only he hadn't.

Xander continued to look at her with confusion.

"XANDER! I'm your horn! I think. And you, you're my horn. And we've been fighting to keep our hands on our horns when, maybe, we're better without them. And also, we've ignored the fact that we're umm, may be able to grow new horns."

A correlation dawned on Xander. "You think we're using each other as security blankets."

Anya stopped "I suppose that would be an acceptable analogy for our situation too."

"Ahn, I don't think I'm using you as a blanket, or a horn, I love you."

Anya searched Xander's adorable face, his warm honey brown eyes and his cute lips. If he wasn't going to be the brave one, she would have to be. "Then it must just be me." She tuned her head further into the pillow, letting her hair fall around her face. "I- I know I'm using you as a horn, Xander. And I don't want to do that anymore. It's not fair to you. Or to me."

She glanced at him, watching him struggle for something to say, a way to convince her that she was wrong. As he opened his mouth to offer up some sort of argument, she placed her fingers over his lips, "I'll move out sometime this week, after I find another place to live." In the back of her head, Anya thought to herself, 'I'll have to ask Giles for a raise.'


	5. Moving On

**TITLE** What I Want  
**FANDOM** Buffy The Vampire Slayer  
**PAIRING** Ganya Spuffy… Big bit o' Spuffy in this one.  
**CHAP** 5 (of 6?) Moving On  
**AUTHOR** Devylish  
**WORDS** 1479  
**WARNINGS** none  
**RATING** PG  
**PLOT** AU timeline, Tara's around, Dawn is 17, Anya and Xander are together but not engaged, Spike and Buffy are 'foolin' around' but it's still a secret – and Buffy is still torn about how she feels for Spike. Oh and yes… yes, Giles and Anya SHOULD be together! Welcome to my taste of ganya, with a sprinkle of spuffy spice.  
**AN** So, my contribution to the summer of giles 2010 is a few icons and the continuation of my summer of giles 2008 fic "what I want"... I willlll finish it prior to the end of this summer!

* * *

After considering all of my options (of which there weren't many) I moved in to the Summers' home.

I chose the Summers' home because:  
1) it was cheap.  
2) Buffy wanted someone around to 'watch over' Dawn (who was a week away from being 18 and reallllly didn't think she needed to be watched over).  
3) it was cheap.  
4) I didn't really want to be alone.  
5) it was cheap.

The move had been... painless.

And honestly, it was the _painlessness_ that made me saddest of all.

All of the time, all of the emotions, all of the energy we... I... put into our relationship and in one day, we could part ways – end it all - and it didn't hurt.

And I thought it _should_ hurt. I mean, you have a relationship and it ends... it **should** hurt. Right?

But it didn't. Basically, all I felt was kind of empty, and... well... empty.

But by this point, I was use to feeling empty. For the past few months my emotions had oscillated between scared, desperate, and empty.

So no big change. I was still scared to be on my own.

And I was still empty.

"Thank you for spending your money in our store. Please come back and do it again." I offered the thank you halfheartedly as our last shoppers of the evening left the store. I locked the door behind them and took a look around the shop looking for the best place to start cleaning up.

"Yes, yes, I agree, but..." Giles came up from the storage room, a phone attached to his ear. "Yes, but... there must be another...," his glasses were already off, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. "Yes, yes... I do understand." He sees me standing by the door, shoots me a smile and slips his glasses back on. "Well yes Raph, as I said, I do agree, but until I hear from the lead Decipher, I will not be forwarding the information."

I hear the voice of the person on the other end of the line get louder.

Giles glances at me before looking down at the phone and biting out. "I'm sorry Raph, my decision is made. Until it's been verified by the Leads, I will not share the information. Good night." He clicked off the phone and took a deep breath.

I bluntly ask, "What information won't you share?"

Giles chuckled lightly, "As I said, I'm not sharing the information... not even with you."

I let the possible meanings of 'not even with you' wash over me. And for once I was silent.

"Need some help putting the shop back into order?" He changes the topic and I close mouthedly respond with a nod of my head.

We move about in the store like two pieces of a machine. Tucking in a chair here. Adjusting a table there. Shelving a book or two. Two pieces of machinery spinning closer and closer to one another until...

"So, how are you?"

"Me?" I ask the question and then have to physically stop myself from thwacking my head with my hand. Of course he was referring to me. I'm the only person in the shop besides him.

He grins a genuine, full-fledged, Giles grin. "Yes, you." He's moved to the cashier counter and is leaning against it.

"I'm good. Fine. I wish we'd made more money today, but other than that, I'm.. good."

He studies me for a second then turns to the counter, straightening a stack of brochures. "And you're comfortable with your decision? You're not regretting... anything...? the...? you and Xander? The separation..."

It was my turn to straighten out the stacks of papers in front of me; only, there weren't any stacks near me. I was standing in the middle of the room, in front of nothing, my hands fluttering uselessly. This was the first time Giles had mentioned the break up in front of me; and I found that the question, from him, made my stomach flutter.

I looked him in the eye. "I'm okay. Some days are better than others. I miss the sex. What there was of it."

I watched a flush spread over Giles' face and realized I'd said something 'unexpected' again. It must have been the sex thing. Humans were so touchy about that topic. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. It makes you uncomfortable."

"No! No. I mean, well, yes..., perhaps I wasn't quite expecting you to mention your... your... sex life, but we're both adults. Ahem. And we can discuss anything you wish to."

"We can?"

Wondering, vaguely, what he might be getting himself into, Giles responded, "Yes, of course." He straightened his glasses.

No one wanted to talk to me. Not now. Not ever really. Xander had stopped being fascinated by my words long ago. And Dawn and Buffy, well, they didn't seem to know exactly how to handle me; pat me on the back for being in the midst of a break up? Or condemn me for dumping their friend? In either case, they seem to have mutually decided to avoid the topic of Xander and me all together.

But Giles wanted to talk to me.

Or at least he was willing to talk to me.

I beamed.

_He pulled his glasses off. He had to. She was glowing. Not in a demonic way, but in a perfectly human, beautiful young 'happy' woman way. She was glowing so much that she made his eyes hurt. _

_His eyes and his heart._

"Would you like to go to dinner with me Rupert?" The words, like most of my words, were out of my mouth before I knew it. So with only a half a second's hesitation, I plundered forth. "It would be my treat. And... I would like to talk... to someone... if you wouldn't mind?"

_Dinner? With Anya? _"I would be delighted to have dinner with you, but of course, you won't pay for me." He put his glasses back on and glanced at his watch. "Would now be too early? There's that new little bistro on Elwood...?" _He looked back up at her and she was beaming at him again. Brighter than before. And he had done that. He had made her smile and beam. He echoed her smile._

"Now would be perfect, Rupert."

We set about collecting my purse, locking the safe and the doors, and headed out into the night.

* * *

"She's honestly not here?"

"I stopped lying about things like two years ago Xander," Dawn held the door open and let him enter the house. "She went to work at around 10, and I haven't seen her since."

Xander headed into the living room, slumping against the couch, a dejected look on his face. "I wish she'd talk to me."

"Why?"

"Why?"

"Why?"

"So we can stop with the breakingupedness!"

Dawn perched on the edge of the coffee table. "Xander. I don't think Anya is going to change her mind."

"She'll change her mind."

"Xander -"

"Dawnie you're too young to understand this stuff, but trust me -"

"Alexander Harris! I will be 18 years old in less than five days. I've been dealing with demons and vampires and icky stuff for nearly as long as you have. I'm tired of people telling me what I'm too young to understand. I understand a lot! A LOT!" By the time she finished with her little diatribe, she was leaning forward into Xander's space and he was leaning backwards, his shoulders pressed against the couch. "Got it?"

Xander gulped, "Got it."

Dawn tinged pink and sat back suddenly regretting her outburst. "Ice cream."

"Ice cream?"

"All break ups require an ice cream session." She hopped up from the table. "Or so I've observed. Let's go to Alman's Ice Cream Parlor and you can buy yourself a scoop, and buy me two scoops."

Taking the hand she held out to him, Xander got off of the couch. "Why do you get two scoops?"

"I have a birthday coming up. The extra scoop can be part of your gift to me."

"If I buy you three scoops can that be your whole gift?"

Dawn looked over her shoulder at him as she pulled the front door closed. "For my eighteenth? Not a chance." She walked past him, down the front steps, her wealth of brown hair moving and shining in the setting sunlight. "If you need any gift ideas, however, feel free to ask me, I'm sure I can give you one or two."


End file.
